an hour of turbulence.
"Don't bother me Yuki, I'm practicing," Ryoichi's brother, Kyoshi, would threaten whenever Yukihiro entered his room. It was always the same. He would be strumming away at his guitar the whole day whenever Yuki came over.
No wonder his grades were so poor, Yukihiro thought angrily as the two boys sat outside of the room. Despite getting kicked out everyday, Yukihiro would sit outside the door and listen carefully to Kyoshi's guitar playing. He would do his homework with Ryoichi in the hallway if he had to, which they often did. Sometimes he would fall asleep in the middle of the hallway to the sweet melodies. Needless to say, Ryoichi would fall asleep as well. Kyoshi would come out from his room and carry his little brother back to bed and call Yuki's parents. It became obvious to Yuki's family that something about the intricate rhythms and the pluck of the strings entranced him if it would put him peacefully to sleep.
Years passed and then little Yuki was nearing the end of middle school. During those years, Kyoshi taught Yuki how to play the guitar everyday. He would practice every night until his fingers bled and the song sounded perfect. Then one day, Yuki decided to buy a guitar of his own.
"Good morning oji-san, oba-san!" Yuki greeted his neighbours every morning before going to school. It only seemed right to him. Ignoring them was rude. They seemed okay with it, as the middle-aged couple sitting on their porch always waved behind their newspaper and coffee, a grunt in reply.
"What a nice boy, that Awaji-kun," the wife murmured with a smile as she put her mug to her lips.
Her husband flipped the page and sighed. "You always say that, honey." She shrugged, her watchful eyes following Yukihiro as he rode past them. A permanent blank look plastered his face, his lips closed, jet black hair that stuck out in all directions. His heavy lidded eyes sparkled with anticipation.
"Awaji-kun looks different today," she said, an amused look on her face. She turned towards her husband and smiled. "That Awaji family never ceases to amaze me."
"Good morning ojii-san, obaa-san!" Ryoichi suddenly called out as he whizzed by on his bike. His wild bleach blond hair whipped around his face, a mischievous look present on his face.
"What a rude boy, that Matsumoto-kun," she muttered, her amused face quickly dissolved.
Her husband sighed again. "You always say that."
A few meters away, Ryoichi had caught up to Yuki. "Yuki-kun!" he cried out. He pedalled hard, trying to keep the same pace as his friend. "Where are we going after school today? Practice?"
Yukihiro shrugged, gripping the handles of his bike. "I wanted to buy a guitar today," he mumbled. Even though he didn't show it, he was excited. The idea of having his own guitar and not borrowing Kyoshi's made him giddy.
Ryoichi nodded, a sly grin on his face. He always wore that grin, and when he didn't, it was replaced by a smirk. "We'll miss practice again."
Again, Yukihiro shrugged. There were more important things than track practice, and music was one of them. Running around a field wasn't as interesting as being in a store filled with guitars.
"Where'd you get the money from?" Ryoichi asked, pedalling faster as Yuki started to get ahead of him. "Hey, why are you going so fast?"
Looking over his shoulder, Yuki laughed; a grin spread wide on his face. A couple of school girls walked by and stared after the racing pair. A short girl's mouth hung open. "Eh?! Did you just see that? Yukihiro-kun just smiled!"
Hearing their comment, Yuki laughed. He turned his face towards the sun. Yes, today was going to be a good day.
"You're almost late, Awaji-kun," the math teacher scolded as Yuki strolled in through the door. The bell rang just in time.
"Gomen," Yuki bowed his head for a second and made his way to his seat. He always took the seat closest to the window. That way, he could look out and not be bothered by anyone else around him.
Being bored by the cars zooming by, he decided to pay attention. His fingers tapped on his desk relentlessly, tapping out rhythms for his guitar. With his other hand, he wrote down the notes from the board.
Yuki turned to look at Sachi. Sachi was one of his sister's friends. Her grades were awful and she had to go to cram school everyday because of it. He didn't know how his sister could be friends with someone like her. Then again, he was friends with Ryoichi, who was basically the male version of Sachi.
"Yukihiro-kun," the math teacher snapped, a smug look on her face. Yuki lazily turned his eyes towards her. "Solve this problem please and explain what you did."
Sighing, he put his hands on his desk and got up. The problem was easy, even if it was a second year high school question. What she even doing, teaching this material?
His eyes scanned and examined the circle drawn on the board. A quarter of the circle had been shaded in, a rectangle drawn into the quarter. "The solution is simple," his voice drawled as usual. Yuki's hand picked up the piece of the chalk and he scribbled quickly on the board. "Use the Pythagorean theory to find the radius and simply input the numbers into the formula for the area of a circle."
The teacher frowned. "As usual, you are right. Your mother must teach you well. Take a seat. Now turn to page..."
For some reason, whenever Yuki's school work was mentioned, his mother was brought up in the conversation as well. She was an instructor but now she was a spokeswoman for some designer college. Yuki failed to see the connection between his mother and his grades.
As Yuki sat down, he overheard one of the girls whispering his name. One of them was a cute girl, wide eyes and pigtails sticking out on the sides of her head. The other was almost like an exact replica of the the first but her narrow eyes ruined the illusion.
"Yukihiro-kun is cool," the wide eyed one giggled. "Not only does he talk cool, but he's smart too! He's so mysterious."
"He always scores first in exams," the other one whispered back. Her narrow eyes sparkled with excitement. "I heard that Miki saw him smile this morning." The girls squealed at the thought.
Something in Yuki made him chuckle. Yes, today was turning out to be a great day. He bent his head down and started working on tonight's questions. Wanting to keep his "cool" image, Yuki tried not to smile for the rest of the day.
Finally, when school ended, he and Ryoichi dashed to the music store. It would have been bad if any of the teachers caught them skipping club activities. Yuki shivered at the thought of the school calling up his parents from work. They would call anyway for missing track practice.
Panting, Yuki shook off the thought of his parents and looked around him. Speakers blared out a loud grunge metal. The singer sang raspily, almost incomprehensible. The guitar riffs ripped through the air, the bass mumbled softly underneath the layers of sound. The small store was stacked with records and CDs, crowded with instruments that lined the walls. The floors shook, the bass was suddenly so loud that the store threatened to explode. A small smile crept onto Yuki's face. This was the place for him.
"Aren't you two a little young to be here?" the clerk at the front desk asked. Leaning on the counter, the man looked the pair over. He looked bored with them. Yuki stared back. He couldn't help but notice the large tattoo etched across the man's face and the long hair that shielded his eyes.
"We're 14," Ryoichi growled. He didn't look very intimidating compared to the store clerk. Ryoichi looked just like a little boy, his facial features were delicate and his blond hair did nothing to help him. He looked like an angel.
The store clerk scoffed and waved them away. "Just don't mess up anything."
"Oh we'll give you something to clean up alright," Ryoichi muttered under his breath as the pair walked through the aisles of music. "Hey, X-Japan is playing!" His face suddenly brightened at the sound.
Yuki smiled as he looked up at the shiny guitars that gleamed against the pale walls. They were all beautiful, almost begging to be touched.
They walked through, all the way to the back of the store. There, Yuki saw it. The skin of the head of the drums gleamed, the cymbals reflected in the lights, and the large bass drum was white as snow, glowing under the dull lighting. "Let's get it," Yuki breathed.